


Every New Configuration

by curiouswildflower



Category: Do No Harm (TV)
Genre: Other, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouswildflower/pseuds/curiouswildflower
Summary: a series of bits & one-shots that I want to share.





	1. Ruben & Mateo

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add tags as necessary <3
> 
> title from the quote "Every new configuration of people is an entirely new universe unto itself." by Kristin Cashore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to try my hand at a slow, foggy flashback similar to thisstableground's _i be right-right where you step_. all the love, my dear  <3

From his desk, through the door open just a crack, Ruben hears Usnavi’s voice echo down the hallway. “Mateo! Matty, where are you?” 

He laughs under his breath at Usnavi’s urgency, unsurprised that even in their small apartment Usnavi could manage to lose a four-year-old. Ruben presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to rub out the exhaustion. Finals at the community college somehow aligned with the first of many proposal presentations about his updated research for Black Out and if he could only grind out a couple more paragraphs he could join Usnavi and Vanessa in babysitting.

He hears Usnavi shout “Ten!” and Mateo laughs, shouting back “Nine!” 

Surprised to hear Mateo’s voice so close to his office, Ruben gets up and goes to the door. Usnavi and Mateo are still counting back and forth, a trick Nina suggested before she and Benny left for their date, _Eight! Seven! Six!_

Ruben opens the door and his ears start to ring as he registers exactly three things at the same time: shiny red streaks on their grey wall, shiny red streaks staining Mateo’s little arms, shiny red streaks on the floor by his legs. _Four! Three!_

Ruben feels his fingers start to tingle as his hands go numb. The tubing is so tight around his wrists. The tubing? He flexes his wrists, feels that they’re unconstrained. _I’m free, I’m untied –_ he jerks himself out of the hospital bed – hospital bed? and hits something hard, smacking his head soundly. The floor? 

He hears Jason Ian? shout his name and he flinches back, smacking his head into the wall again. The wall? But he. He fell? 

“ _Tio?_ ”

Tio? Tio. Mateo? Mateo is the only one who calls him tio why is Mateo here? Holy shit Mateo must be terrified-

He reaches out for him, clumsy with his numb hands, and says “Mateo! _Mateo, querido,_ come here you’re okay.” 

He registers Mateo’s weight in his arms and blinks rapidly. If he can’t clear his vision he won’t be able to find his way out of the basement and-

“Ruben!”

A tall figure leans down over them and Ruben clutches Mateo to his chest because shit, Ian’s back already he can’t be back-

“ _Tio, que paso?_ ”

“Shh, Mateo -”

“Ruben, do you know where you are?”

Ian’s talking in Spanish? No, not Ian - Fuck, not Usnavi too-

"We’re in the basement of IMH. Ian will be back any second we need to leave it’s not safe here-“

“Okay Ruben, okay. Let’s leave. Let’s get somewhere safe.”

Ruben stands, hugging Mateo tight in his arms. Usnavi walks ahead of them, turning left at the end of the hallway – hallway? – and passing through a big room full of furniture Ruben vaguely recognizes. His living room? Not in Philly. Which living room? But they’re at IMH?

Usnavi leads them to a table cluttered with papers and bottles and surrounded by windows oh, his lab. Usnavi pulls out a chair for Ruben to sit in where’s his rolling chair? and sits next to him. He talks again in quiet Spanish.

“Ruben. Where are we?”

“My lab.” Ruben says with confidence. “We need to leave the hospital, but at least here we can clean Mateo’s arms.”

“I know where the sink is.” Usnavi announces. “You sit and breathe, I’ll be right over here washing Mateo.”

Usnavi picks Mateo up off Ruben’s lap, and Ruben looks down to see the same shiny red streaks on his arms. He feels Ian dig the dialysis needle into his left arm again and he stops breathing, whimpering at the pain. 

“I’m sorry.” Ruben whispers.

He hears Usnavi. “Ruben, where are we?”

The pain is so intense Ruben has to close his eyes. Suddenly a heavy weight is dropped back in his lap, and he hears Mateo ask “Is Tio Ruben okay?”

He can’t move his arms, or anything else, but he feels Mateo lean forward onto his chest and tuck his head under his chin. Like they’re dancing, like how they watch movies. Ruben breathes again under Mateo’s weight, and resigns himself to the fact that if he can’t breathe or can’t move then he can’t save Usnavi and Mateo should Ian find them.

An indiscernible amount of time passes before he hears Usnavi ask quietly, “Ruben, where are we?”

Ruben blinks open his eyes, focusing immediately on Usnavi sat across the kitchen table from him. His grown-out faux-hawk is messy, his eyes are tired, and through the window behind him the sunset seems to pour over his shoulders in pink and orange stripes. Ruben recognizes the papers as coloring pages, the bottles full of juice.

“We’re in our apartment.”

Usnavi’s shoulders give out and he sinks back into his chair. He puts a hand over his eyes and his lips move silently, almost in prayer. 

“Tio are you okay?” Mateo winds his little arms around Ruben’s chest, squeezing him tightly. Ruben goes to wrap an arm around him and sees the streaks of red.

“ _Yo no se, lindo._ ” He says softly to Mateo. Louder, to Usnavi, “I need to clean my arms.”

Usnavi sits back up and nods. Ruben continues “I just need some soap and water, I don’t want to get blood on Mateo’s-“

“Blood?”

Ruben looks down at his arms again. Blood? “No.” he says. “Not blood?”

Ruben sees Usnavi shake his head. “Not blood. Lipstick. Mateo got into Vanessa’s drawer in the bathroom vanity.”

Lipstick. 

Ruben nods. Usnavi asks, “Want me to take Mateo?” and Ruben nods again.

Carried in his arms again, Mateo apologizes for drawing on the wall and Usnavi hugs him so tightly Mateo complains. Ruben sits at the table with his head resting on his arms, breathing through his headache. The pounding in his head is secondary to the voice that whines _it’s been months since I went under that bad_ and Ruben suppresses the urge to genuinely whimper.

Mateo brings over a big book about vehicles and shakes Ruben’s leg. “Tio Ruben. Read to me?” A request Ruben will never deny.

He scoops him up, settling back down in the corner of the couch. He can hear Usnavi move bottles around and then walk down the hallway. Ruben almost offers to switch – he can clean, Usnavi sometimes spends all day cleaning the store – but Ruben doesn’t know how his brain will handle seeing the lipstick on the wall again so he kisses Mateo’s head and starts in on a page about airplanes.

Vanessa returns from her run for pizza. Ruben can feel her eyes on his face as she clears space for it on the table, but he continues to read. On her way into the kitchen she kisses his head, drags her thumb across his cheek. 

They eat quietly, outside of Mateo’s chatter, and put in a movie. Ruben picks the far corner of the couch again and Mateo immediately clamors back onto his lap, chest to chest with his head under Ruben’s chin. Ruben head still aches but he isn’t going to say no to the prospect of cuddling Mateo until Nina and Benny get back.

Mateo falls asleep on Ruben’s lap, and Vanessa nearly does the same against his shoulder. Usnavi sits in the armchair next to them, loosely holding Ruben’s hand on the arm of the couch.

“Can I ask about it?” Usnavi asks quietly. Ruben shakes his head. 

“Not until Mateo leaves.”

Usnavi nods and gets up to turn off the movie. He returns with a book and begins to read out loud. Ruben leans his head back against the cushions and lets Usnavi’s voice wash over him.

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he jolts awake at the feeling of a weight being lifted of him. He hears “Shh, _querido_ , Nina and Benny are back.” And relaxes back into the couch. He’d startled Vanessa awake off his shoulder, and she gets up to get the door for Usnavi with his arms full of Mateo.

They exchange quiet pleasantries in the doorway, but with Mateo still asleep it isn’t long before Nina and Benny leave again. Usnavi steps into Ruben’s arms when the door shuts, and Vanessa scratches her fingers through his hair.

“Something happened? You want to talk about it now, or tomorrow?” she asks.

Ruben nods, whispers “Tomorrow.” and Usnavi kisses his temple.


	2. Ruben/Usnavi, "Let me be good to you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wherein Ruben stims during sex and Usnavi says Ruben's name a lot. might remove later to be part of a longer stand-alone thing. for now, the girls wanted the porn-y bit. <3

_“Let me be good to you.”_

Usnavi’s breath is hot on Ruben’s neck as his palms slide hot across Ruben’s hips. He pulls Ruben with him as he sits up – sheets smooth under Ruben’s knees as he’s shifted onto Usnavi’s lap.

Usnavi works Ruben’s mouth open with his tongue while he works him open on his fingers. Ruben rocks to meet his touch, hands fluttering from Usnavi’s waist to his chest to his shoulders. Usnavi lets go of Ruben’s hip long enough to push on Ruben’s arm, and Ruben follows the encouragement to wrap his arms around Usnavi’s neck.

The hand returns to his hip and Ruben gasps as Usnavi shifts him forward, pressing their chests flush together.

Usnavi’s _“Ready?”_ comes from his chest. Ruben buries his face against his arm and Usnavi says again, _“Ruben? Ready?”_ Ruben nods, choking out a moan as Usnavi presses inside.

The sheets rustle as Ruben pulls his legs up, tucking his knees alongside Usnavi’s chest and curling his feet behind the small of Usnavi’s back. Usnavi groans _“Fuck yeah,”_ and Ruben feels him shift and plant his feet on the bed.

The shift in position shifts Usnavi inside Ruben, and Ruben bites down hard on his forearm to muffle the sound that tears itself out of his chest. Usnavi starts to move in earnest, hands tight around Ruben’s waist and beard scratching against Ruben’s shoulders. 

_“Fuck, Ruben.”_

Ruben gasps, holding tighter against Usnavi’s shoulders and burying his face into Usnavi’s neck. The skin is soft and hot under his lips and tongue as Ruben bites and sucks kisses into his sweaty skin.

 _“Ruben,”_ Usnavi gasps, _“Ruben, touch yourself, Rubén-“_

Ruben shoves his hand between their chests and wraps it around himself, biting hard on Usnavi’s shoulder. The edges of his brain fizzle with static as heat builds in his belly and moments after Ruben comes in his fist he feels Usnavi come inside him.

They breathe against each other’s necks for a few moments. Ruben soothes the marks he left with his tongue and traces his fingers against Usnavi’s belly. He feels Usnavi shift, drawing his knees up even closer and sliding his hands up Ruben’s back, settling near his neck. With Usnavi’s chest curled in front of him and his legs and arms behind, Ruben feels precious. He thinks, for some reason, of a set of parentheses.


	3. Trio, On Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thought I had. Not polished, just kinda fell out this afternoon at work.

Usnavi should take out stock in post-it notes. They’re left everywhere in his apartment – bright pinks and greens against the browns and blues of his belongings. 

Usnavi explains that there used to be a system – pink for things to bring with him, green for things to fix or put away, yellow for notes to himself, blue for notes to Vanessa. Ruben’s not sure how well that system is followed, but Usnavi isn’t one to give up on his plans – more that he loses the script along the way and doesn’t mind improvising.

There’s a purple post-it stuck to his phone on the nightstand. Ruben ignores his glasses and squints at the sharp peaks of Usnavi’s script - _Eat lunch today, lindo. There’s a sandwich in the fridge._

Purple, because the note is for Ruben. He rubs his thumb over _lindo._

\--

 

Ruben learns that for all of his words, Usnavi isn’t a verbal processor. Neither is Vanessa, though that’s less surprising of a discovery. 

The quiet in the apartment feels like the glow of a candle – a jazz piece crooning softly from the kitchen radio, Usnavi adding soft snare and cymbal on top, the flutter as Ruben turns pages in his book. Ruben glances up - Vanessa sits with her legs crossed, untangling a knot of black cords as Usnavi pulls the entertainment center away from the wall. When she huffs particularly loudly he glances down, reaching between her fingers to touch a loop. She nods and pulls at it, smiling as she threads a length of cord through the new opening. A few minutes later he holds a red-tipped cord in hand, eyebrows furrowed, and Vanessa slides her arm across his to touch one of the red-coated outlets. 

Ruben glances down – a green note stuck to the table after it was removed from Sonny’s mom’s VHS player. _Hook this up._

Vanessa settles on the couch next to him, tucking her head onto his shoulder. Usnavi stands in front of them and flourishes an array of old horror movies, then starts to announce each movie quick and loud like an auctioneer. Ruben laughs so hard his book falls off the arm of the couch as Vanessa shouts “Nightmare on Elm Street!” and Usnavi tosses it at her. “Sold!”

\--

 

Ruben isn’t a verbal processer either, is the thing. His notebooks are clean and systematic – to do lists and appointments and budgets. He uses two at a time – moleskin, usually. Graph paper pages. Red for his planner, black for his journal.

Words in his head get messy – shifting and squirming like his panic is changing the font and sizing as he types. Words out loud suffer similarly – panic squeezing his voice and stuttering his tongue. 

Words on a page come out with the most consistency. His handwriting has looked the same since middle school, clean and even. He remembers impressing his teachers – _lefties usually don’t have such nice writing._ It helped in chemistry, it helps in his journal. Tidy letters, tidy sentences. He hopes it’ll inspire his brain to produce tidier thoughts.

\--

 

He starts tucking Usnavi’s post-its into his journal. The purple square is bright where he’s stuck it over an equation he cannot seem to balance. His panic hums, whispers – his side doesn’t add up to theirs. They make room for his baggage and carry his weight. It sings in his skin, a minor key with unresolved endings.

The orchestra crescendos – a frantic forte in his frontal lobe – and Ruben doesn’t notice the relative silence of Vanessa’s apartment. He doesn’t know how to annotate music, he can’t shove this out onto the paper. His thumb nail digs into the lines, he imagines digging into his skin instead-

“Am I a burden?”

Vanessa jumps, glancing up. Ruben realizes suddenly how loud he’s breathing, how loud he’s just spoken. Her fingers on her keyboard have gone still. Her voice comes out steady, no hesitation. “No, not at all.”

“Not at all?”

“Nope.”

He nods, looking back at his journal. He’s torn through the page. The orchestra has lost its place in the sheet music, quieting and falling out of tune.

The next morning there’s a purple post-it on his laptop, five words looped carefully across the top. He files it in his journal on a new page, covering the tear.

_You are not a burden._


End file.
